For https://steemit.com/contest/@freewritehouse/day-50-selfie-freewrite-celebration-contest-prize-114-80-sbd

Crisps! insisted the person from the U.K. She had an angry look in her eye.

CRISPS.

I wondered if CRISPR was why she was so made, but then she picked up a bag of potato chips, flung it at my face.

I knew it wasn't about CRISPR. I'm sorry I had that thought. I was just trying to be clever, and clever is dumb.

CRISPR.

CRISPR.

There's an open bag of potato chips. I keep pushing her buttons. I keep making her feel like an outsider. I finally got a rise out of her, and now she's angry and I'm scared.

I run down the hallyway. She stays and cries. I feel all topsy turvy. I come back. Fallon, I say to her. I want us to be better friends than we are. But I just can't get over how different we are. I feel like that makes space between us.

Um, ok. She says. This is one of the ways we are different. I state the thing that I want. I state it enthusiastically and sincerely, and am met with a meted, muted response. This makes me sad. I retreat into my brain, and I try to behave the right way. It exhausts me. I just want comfortable silence. I want comfortable funniness. But I worry that I'm too much or too little. That I'm boring. That I'm whatever.

And then I try my hand at teasing.